A Story, Please!
by Princess Twila
Summary: So...England's leaving in the morning, and colonial America and Canada don't want him to leave.  Thus England reads them a bedtime story to help them out.  I rated it K  'cause I don't know how 5-year-olds do with ghosts and the like...


A Story, Please!

Summary: England is trying to get his young colonies to go to sleep, but the boys are too sad that England is going away the next day to do so. Thus England reads them a bedtime story to calm them down.

So yeah…I decided to just write a story about England's relationship with his colonies since my first fanfic was on England and grown-up-America's relationship. This is my second fanfic ever; if you haven't already checked out my first one, feel free to!

Disclaimer No. 1: I, unfortunately, do not own Hetalia.

Disclaimer No. 2: For those of you who recognized the story England tells the boys as being similar to _The Kissing Hand_ by Audrey Penn, I am not plagiarizing the story. I've always wondered if perhaps the story has more ancient roots than 1994, so I just changed the story a little bit to make it more colonial and story-appropriate since raccoons are not entirely relevant to this fanfic…

Characters: England, young America, young Canada.

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><p>"But, but England, you promised!" America looked up at England with those big blue eyes. England found himself wondering who the genius was who made the eyes of little children absolutely irresistible.<p>

"Yes, England, you promised!" Canada chimed in, pulling on England's coattails.

England gently untangled Canada's hands from his clothing. "Dear ones, I have to go back home," he said quietly, wishing as much as they did that he didn't have to leave them. He kneeled on the ground at their level and wrapped them in a comforting embrace. "But don't worry, I will always come back for you," he whispered, kissing each blonde head in turn. The young colonies didn't say anything, but only hugged him closer. Finally England gradually pushed them away and stood up. "I thought since it's my last night here that we could have a special dinner tonight," he suggested. America and Canada looked mildly afraid at the prospect of England cooking until he clarified that he had hired a maid to do the cooking for the evening. America and Canada promptly began cheering and dancing around England, holding his hands and pulling him in circles with them. England smiled at their antics before gently scolding them to calm down. Then he led them into the drawing room to play until dinnertime.

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><p>"Start with the outside utensil and work your way in, America," England reminded the young colony who was staring confusedly at the collection of forks, spoons and knives arranged on either side of his plate. Canada had already placed his napkin on his lap and was waiting patiently for England to say grace so that they could begin eating. The maid had prepared a rich broth to start with, followed by bread pudding as an appetizer, and then venison covered in an onion-and-mushroom gravy. Desert was a rich lemon meringue pie.<p>

England had hoped that after the boys had eaten, they would become sleepy and go to bed quickly. He could not have been more wrong…

First, the boys insisted that England take them out on a walk by the lake to watch the water fowl beginning to migrate south for the winter. Once they came back, from which England was sufficiently more tired than the energetic boys, they begged England to color with them. England sighed and brought out the colored inks, quills, and parchment, thus keeping himself busy trying to keep their white shirts white.

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><p>After a whirlwind of activity, England finally had the boys in their nightshirts and tucked into bed. "Good night, dear ones," England said, about to blow out the kerosene lamp on the dresser.<p>

"England, wait!" America cried, sitting up in his twin bed. England paused, holding his breath, and Canada leaned on one elbow in his own twin bed. "Please don't leave us tomorrow," America whimpered. "Who's going to keep away the ghosts when you're gone?"

England berated himself for forgetting the young boy's fear of ghosts. Instead of taking his usual tactic in trying to convince America that ghosts did not exist, he decided to alleviate the boy's fears with a story. Stepping away from the still-lit lamp, he picked up the young boy in his arms and, still holding him, sat down on Canada's bed. Canada quickly snuggled up to England, who put his arm around the boy while America settled onto England's lap.

"You know that I will always be here for you," England said, ruffling America's sandy blonde hair, carefully avoiding Nantucket. "Both of you. Always." He ruffled Canada's hair. "All the same, how about I tell you a story so that you know that I will always be here for you. How does that sound?" The two boys looked up at him and nodded happily.

"Once upon a time," England began, "there was a little boy named James. Now James lived with his father on a farm out on the frontier. It was just the two of them living together, and they loved each other's company. James was a very good boy, helping around the house as much as he could, always obeying his father, and looking after the house when his father would go on a day trip into town alone. But for all of the good things that James did, he could not help but be afraid when his father would leave him. The whisper of the wind outside of the house would scare James, as well as the creak on the stairs and the shadows the trees made in the moonlight. Whenever he needed to, he would run to his father and his father would give him a kiss on the cheek, and James would feel all better. You see, James was scared of the dark and the ghosts that came in the dark." At this, America gasped and hugged England, nearly scared out of his wits. England took a moment to calm the boy back down before he resumed his story.

"One day, James' father told him that he was going on an overnight trip into town to buy some supplies for the upcoming winter. James pleaded with his father to take him since it was his father's first overnight trip and James did not know how he could keep the ghosts away without his father. His father tried to tell him that he needed him to keep watch over the house and the farm animals, like the little pigs in the sty…" England paused to press gently upon Canada's nose, making his nose seem like a pig snout and his hair curl a curly tail; both Canada and America collapsed into a fit of giggles. "And the dogs by the fireplace…" England made a gentle woofing sound as if he were a dog barking, sending the boys into giggles once again. "And the cows in the shed…" This time America took the initiative to moo like a cow, and even England laughed at this. England then continued with his story. "Finally James told his father that his father was the only one who could keep the ghosts away.

"James' father knelt down and told him, 'If you ever need me when I'm not here, whether it's to keep the ghosts away or just because you miss me, just take your hand and put it to your cheek.' And with that, James' father took his son's small hand in his own and kissed his palm, wrapping the fingers around the palm to keep the kiss in. 'This is called a kissing hand,' his father said. 'Keep this kiss safe and it will always help you when you need me. I love you, my son.' And his father then went off to town.

"That night, when James had finished all of his chores, he was walking to his room when he heard the now-familiar noise of the wind whispering around the house." America gave a small squeak. "James was about to run to his father when he remembered that his father was not there to help him. He began to be scared, wondering what he should do…what do you boys think he should do?" England asked, breaking away from the story to include his young audience.

"Bring out the kissing hand!" America and Canada said promptly. England smiled and nodded. "Then James remembered his father's words and the kissing hand. He quickly pressed his hand to his cheek, and he immediately felt better. It was almost as if his father actually were there, ready and waiting to comfort him when he needed it. James no longer felt afraid of the wind, and he was able to sleep in peace that night.

"The next day, when James' father came home, James ran out to greet him. 'Oh father,' he cried, 'the kissing hand worked! It worked!' And James' father smiled and hugged his son and said, 'The kissing hand is how I will always be here for you.' And with that, James kept his father's kiss safe for the rest of his life. The end."

America and Canada were beginning to get sleepy by the end of the story. England carefully picked up America and tucked him back into his own bed. Going back over to Canada, he tucked the young boy under the covers before gently pulling out Canada's hand and placing a kiss in the boy's palm and wrapping his fingers around the kiss. Canada smiled sleepily before pressing the hand to his cheek and closing his eyes. England returned to America, who was a little more awake than his brother.

"England, I don't want you to go tomorrow," he whispered, trying not to wake his brother who already seemed to be asleep.

England pulled out America's hand and placed a kiss there as well, then placing the boy's palm on his cheek. "You know, the kissing hand isn't just to keep the ghosts away. It's also for whenever you need me or miss me, just like James' father said. So if you find yourself missing me until I can come back to you, just remember that if you keep my kiss safe, I will always be here for you." America smiled gratefully up at England before closing his eyes. England carefully got up from where he had been kneeling next to the boy's bed and walked quietly over to the lamp before blowing out the flame. Before he left the room, he took once last look upon his little colonies, sleeping peacefully.

"Good night, dear ones," he whispered before shutting the door.


End file.
